Enfys Llewelyn
: The short version: librarian from hell. this girl is the flutter of fake lashes in the mirror Gates Enfys Moninne Keel, born in London to an Irish Met cop and a Welsh housewife, hasn't answered to her given name since she was sixteen years old and the only person who ever got away with calling her that turned up dead - these days she introduces herself as Enfys Llewelyn, borrowing said dead mother's maiden name. A still-healing tattoo on her back that she and her mum hadn't quite got around to telling her da about just yet and her suitcases in her hands, Enfys - as she'd been known for quite some time already - relocated from the cosy if not financially fantastic home she'd grown up in (a little three-bedroom jobbie in Brixton, for the curious) to, of all fucking things, a sheep farm in central Otago where it turned out that (now retired) Sgt. Keel had family. She ran around after sheep, she transferred to a new highschool (Maniototo Area School), she hated things a bit. Enfys devoted herself to the occult studies that her mother had introduced her to before her death, but she had no exceptional talent for anything otherworldly- just a knack for books and languages that her father couldn't really fault her for when she was bringing home such fantastic marks. It would've been nice if she'd focused on something other than horrifying demonic texts that were such a godawful pain in the arse to get a hold of - but you can't have everything. After secondary school, she did that wonderful kiwi rite of passage - the Big OE, and went backpacking around the UK for a year. This incidentally coincided pretty neatly with the events of Chosen, and a messy barfight somewhere in Ireland got significantly messier when a roughly eighteen year old Enfys Keel discovered, to her surprise and the surprise of the man she was disagreeing with, that she could hit a lot harder than she was used to. Her trip was cut abruptly short and she bolted back to the farm as fast as her stupidly long legs could carry her. That was about six, nearly seven years ago now. Enfys has more or less got a handle on this whole Slayer business, and while living in the ass-end of no where means she's mostly doing it on her own, the research skills that she developed in her teens and has continued to develop while pursuing a degree in library science at Otago University have come in awfully useful for educating herself. She'd probably be better off if she had a little more back-up than some aging Irishmen, but a girl takes what she can get - especially after spending a couple of months in a really fucked up hamster wheel. she's a ragged edged fedora or a spanish souvenir Tattooed from the top of her spine to the bottom is the back piece that it's really quite impressive she managed to get all without her father catching on, considering the multiple appointments with the tattooist; it is Excalibur, forever pointed at her arse. An Arthuriana fan throughout her youth, Enfys picked this tattoo at all of sixteen and managed to win her mother over in order to get it with the thought in mind that the heroes she loved best were the ones who tried and sometimes fucked up more badly than you can possibly imagine a hero fucking up and- yet- still heroes. King Arthur. And his knights. She wanted to remind herself to be a good person; she wanted a reminder that getting up is more important than getting knocked down. It was all very dorky. As a Slayer, Enfys takes the broad view; there's a difference between 'otherworldly' and 'evil' and she means to be absolutely certain that something is the latter and not just the former before she shoves a knife up its jacksie. (Once she is sure, she's fine with it - but Enfys will kill a human as quickly as she'll kill a demon if she has justification and the reasonable expectation of getting away with it.) Her fighting 'technique' is less combat trained and more nasty little pub brawler, which is what happens when you're taught how to fight by an ex-cop who used to be a bare-knuckle fighter and who believes firmly (and taught this philosophy to his daughter) that 'below the belt' is an appropriate first resort when the aim is to get something or someone down and not moving as quickly as possible. She probably would've made a good Watcher in the vein of Rupert Giles if she'd stayed in London and worked with the Council, but instead she's working on her library science degree and punching the hell out of things in her spare time. It's a living. Her skills include sketch artistry (she can't paint for shit, but she's brilliant with a pencil or charcoal), carpentry and some metalwork (her earliest work was apprenticing), physical labour (...Slayer strength, grew up on a farm), having a knack for weapons with a blade, and having the kind of aim that means if she has a gun, she's probably just going to hit you with the end of it. (That's more like the opposite of a skill.) this girl is the snowfall where the spring should have been : The crazy is strong in this one, and it mostly manifests in an insidious tendency toward reckless self-destruction, as well as being totally unable to relate to other people in a sane and healthy way; unfortunately, her aggressively friendly and inappropriately familiar behaviour can sometimes look like magnetic charisma if you look at it in the right light, and she's sort of like a horrifying whirlpool of bad decisions that other people sometimes get accidentally drowned in. It is generally considered to be a bad idea to get close to her, because she will almost certainly fuck up really hard and she may or may not understand when she does it. ...that said, she's a good time! she's the far end of the grave yard, up where the nettles grow * Hasibe Ozcelik she's a ghost of the city, she's a body through the windscreen * Bruce Wayne this girl's a silhouette, can't you see * ❝I'll bring the fedora, we can do rock-paper-scissors for who gets to be the dick and who gets to be the femme fatale.❞ * ❝What, he just sprouted tits?❞ * ❝I'm lovable.❞ * ❝So, basically what you're telling me is we're being jerked around by all-powerful twelve year olds. Fantastic.❞ * ❝Well, thank you, tall, dark and sassy.❞ * ❝In my spare time I'm not completely human.❞ * ❝Well, I can't speak for other librarians - I'm not a card-carrying member, you know what I mean? - but personally I'm about the book-stealers and the people who skip out on their fines and ... yeah, those bastards that are talking when people are trying to fucking read here. It's whatever; you know how it is when somebody's burning books, you're not going to back off 'cause they're using a specific kind of lighter, right? Or matches, or whatever. Do you want milk or sugar or what, by the way? The thing is, anyone can misuse a library card.❞ * ❝That's such an unfortunate name. I mean- 'Bruce'. That's like being named Dwayne or Geoff or something. It doesn't even mean anything interesting. Let's call you Springsteen instead.❞ * ❝So, Jekyll and Dumber, how're we playing this today?❞ * ❝The thing! Where you get all sarcastic and tense and you're really secretly wishing that I would just be spontaneously struck by lightning.❞ * ❝Go on, inventory my parts. They're all there.❞ * ❝What the fuck do you think I need a phone for, you useless cockshite?❞ this girl's the resurrection, she's the comeback WOMAN'S WORK '''» '''TRACY CHAPMAN » early in the morning she rises, the woman's work is never done and it's not because she doesn't try, she's fighting a battle with no one on her side, she rises in the morning and she works 'til way past dusk, the woman better slow down or she's gonna come down hard LET'S GO '» '''THE CARS '» and i don't want to hold her down, don't want to break her crown, when she says let's go, i like the nightlife, baby, she says let's go, she's laughing inside 'cause they can't refuse, she's so beautiful now, she doesn't wear her shoes, she doesn't like to choose, she's got wonderful eyes and a risque mouth 'IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY '» 'SHERYL CROW '» well okay i made this up, i promised you i'd never give up, if it makes you happy it can't be that bad, if it makes you happy then why the hell are you so sad, you get down, real low down, you listen to coltrane, derail your own train, well who hasn't been there before, i come round, around the hard way, bring you comics in bed, scrape the mold off the bread, well okay i still get stoned, i'm not the kind of girl you take home 'WOMAN KING '» 'IRON & WINE '» hundred years, hundred more, someday we may see a woman king, sword in hand, swing at some evil and bleed, black hoof mare, broken leg, eye on the shotgun shell, age old dog, hornet nest built in the big church bell, hundred years, hundred more, someday we may see a woman king, bloodshot eye, thumb down and starting to weep 'I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT '» '''INDIGO GIRLS » if i stand all alone will the shadows hide the colour of my heart, will they be blue for the tears, black for the nights that we spent apart, and the stars don't mean nothing to you, they're a mirror, i don't want to talk about it '' '''SHAKE IT UP '» THE CARS '» ''dance all night, get real slow, go all night, get real hot, shake it up until you pop, dance all night, whirl your hair, make all the night cats stop and stare, dance all night, go to work, do the move with the quirky jerk, just shake it up 'JUST WHAT I NEEDED '» 'THE CARS '» i don't mind you coming here and wasting all my time, 'cause when you're standing oh so near i kinda lose my mind, it's not the perfume that you wear, it's not the ribbons in your hair, i don't mind you coming here and wasting all my time, i don't mind you hanging out and talking in your sleep, it doesn't matter where you've been as long as it was deep, yeah, you always knew to wear it well 'THIS GIRL IS TAKING BETS '» 'THEA GILMORE '» this girl is the rainbow in the dewy eyed stares, she's the nametag on the toe of your long-dead love affairs, this girl is taking bets, this girl's a silhouette, can't you see, this girl is taking bets, this girl's a silhouette, can't you see, this girl is the wild smile, the icy stare, she's the crackle of the static, she's the curses, she's the prayers 'BAD ROMANCE '» 'LADY GAGA '» ''you know that i want you, and you know that i need you, 'cause i'm a free bitch, baby, i want a bad, bad romance, i want your love and i want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance, i want your love and all your lover's revenge, you and me could write a bad romance '' '''RABBIT HEART (RAISE IT UP) » FLORENCE & THE MACHINE » and in the spring i shed my skin and it blows away with the changing wind the waters turn from blue to red and towards the sky i offer it this is a gift it comes with a price who is the lamb and who is the knife midas is king and he holds me so tight and turns me to gold in the sunlight THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID » THEA GILMORE » could you say that one again babe i've not heard that one before you're looking four years older you're looking for the door i lipsticked fuck you on the mirror as a mark of my respect and wandered out into the street well what the hell did you expect and the old laundrette is hissing our song like it it don't give a damn and the cars are all french kissing in some lonely traffic jam and i've been talking to the radio 'cause it doesn't answer back telling it how they showed our love in monochrome before it all turned black OH MY » GIN WIGMORE » oh my god i'm beaten in the game of love and i fall down i fall down on my knees i fall oh my god i'm beaten in the game of love oh my god i'm beaten in the game of love i've had two years in heaven and five weeks in hell where do i go now so i fall down to my knees praying to god oh help me please i've had two weeks in heaven and five weeks in hell where do i go now oh my lord and i'm not crazy about the way that you feel i can't go changing the way that you deal with love stepping and stopping my things let me take back a hold of those things sometimes i go a little crazy THESE ROSES » GIN WIGMORE » i'll sing you a sweet song if you say to i'll write you the saddest of all words rhymes and phrases i will be your everything and i'll try to give you anything back but i cannot give you my love no i cannot give you my love when i got fight in these roses i still can't be scared i got stones in my pockets and i still can't be shared i got you in my heart to make this all harder i will stay addicted to you i will stay addicted to you take me down to the garden let me lay with you hold my hand and don't let go if you feel like kissing me do now there's butterflies in me baby and i just don't know what to do you could stand up straight you could be the best of my dates but i still wouldn't see you for i cannot give you my love no i cannot give you my love she's the absinthe in whiskey, she is poetry and prozac The Buffyverse, Keira Knightley's beautiful face and the fantastic lyrics by Thea Gilmore do not belong to me. Even though that would be so cool. Enfys is indeed a variation on the theme of Gates Enfys Ryan, and also Enfys Eddings. On a sidenote, while Anders Blakely (current NPC of Ms Llewelyn) was indeed my own creation, at this point I sort of share custody of him with Tara and some or indeed most of the writing of Anders will contain themes/ideas/narrative that came from Tara because she is brilliant and HERE IS HER DUE CREDIT. Category:Living Category:Characters